


The Spiritual Quality of Indefinite Forms

by Byacolate



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Caduceus Deserves Nice Things, Ensemble Cast, M/M, Molly Is A Nice Thing, Mollymauk Lives Fest, Mollymauk Tealeaf Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 08:49:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16761883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byacolate/pseuds/Byacolate
Summary: On the path to Shady Creek Run, Molly meets a cleric.





	The Spiritual Quality of Indefinite Forms

**Author's Note:**

> A commission for my dear friend [Tech](http://si-ching.tumblr.com/) who wanted a canon divergence where Molly never died and met Caduceus early. Plus fucking. Then I got a little carried away.

“I could guide you.”

Nott flinched with such violence she nearly fell out of her chair, and Caleb froze. Everyone else turned to face the figure at the table nearby - everyone but Yasha, who never left her back to a room, and Mollymauk who preferred to sit at her side. Molly had thought nothing of the strange little human with the shock of orange hair at the table by theirs. Frankly, he still didn't.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice far too low and sonorous to suit his frame, “I couldn't help but eavesdrop. You said you're going north?”

“Did we say that?” Fjord hedged just as Jester cried, “That _is_ where we are going!”

Fjord gave her a sideways glance. “Yeah… uh north, or thereabouts.”

A slow smile grew over the human's mouth. “Well this is quite fortuitous. I'm from the north, or thereabouts.”

Jester smacked Caleb's chest, punching the air from him. “That _is_ fortuitous! You guys, isn't that fortuitous?”

Molly squinted at the squat little man. Now that he looked at him - really looked - something about him seemed a little... off. “That is a very gracious offer,” he said airily, leaning forward into his elbows. He laced his fingers together and rested his chin in their cradle. Fjord's eyebrows quirked, but he didn't interject. “And what sort of payment would we owe you for your services?”

“Awh, no,” the gentleman said with his easy smile. Maybe the oddity was the way he faced them with downturned eyes. Could be he was blind. “Nothing like that. Your company would be payment enough for me. Been awhile since I enjoyed companionship.”

“Oh, we are very good companions,” Jester informed him, turning fully in her chair. “We are probably the best companions you could find. What is your name?”

“Caduceus,” said Caduceus. “Caduceus Clay.”

“I am Jester, and these are my friends,” Jester informed him, introducing them one by one, “and now if you will give us a minute, we are going to argue with each other until we agree to take you.”

Her head ducked in with the others and the back-and-forth began. Molly only half listened, figuring the outcome was inevitable without his input, and gazed over the empty plate and half full cup on the stranger's table.

“What are you drinking there, Mister Clay?” he asked over the din. Caduceus glanced down even further.

“Ah. A cup of perfectly decent tea.”

“I suppose it is yet still the morning hour.” Beau, with her tankard of 10 a.m. ale, threw up a middle finger. “Anything you'd like to disclose to us before we set off? Potentially speaking,” he amended when Fjord and Caleb gave him matching looks.

To his credit, Caduceus Clay nodded with great though. “In fact, I think I might. One moment.”

With a surge of magic and a yelp from another nearby table, it became apparent that Caduceus Clay was no strange little human at all. But the form he did take suited his dulcet voice to perfection. The firbolg sat a couple feet taller with a comely smile and the most luxurious shock of pink hair that Molly had ever seen.

Well, an illusion certainly explained his downturned gaze. “Hi,” he said lowly, shifting back. Even his armor was eye-candy - unique, well-crafted, and popping with colors that a man like Molly could appreciate.

Jester gasped. “I like your hair!”

The corners of Caduceus Clay’s eyes grew deep with the wrinkles of a smile. “Thank you! I like your hair.”

The proprietress of the tavern did not appreciate shapeshifting shenanigans half as much as Molly did, so Caduceus was shortly encouraged to leave. He tipped his great head and obliged. Something about his nature gave Molly the vibe that it was just as likely he might wander off as it was that he might wait around for them to make up their minds.

“I think he's worth the risk.”

Caleb frowned, cutting down Jester’s agreement. “We know nothing about this man except that he does not always appear as himself.”

With a slow blink Molly flicked his eyes between Fjord and Jester. “We picked you up, didn't we?”

“Oh-kay,” Fjord cut in as Nott stood up, slapping both hands on the table. “A guide could come in handy, and it's hard to object to a free one. There's seven of us and one of him. If he tries anything -”

“We tear his throat out and leave him for the worms,” Nott growled through all her teeth. Fjord cleared his throat.

“Something like that.”

“Good. Now that we're agreed,” Molly said, pushing himself up out of his chair and tossing a few silver into the table, “might wanna catch our guide before he finds another group of misfits to assist pro bono."

Caduceus Clay was, in fact, waiting for them just outside. As far as Molly was concerned, that was one solid point in his favor.

“So,” he said, gripping his staff with both hands. His tail dragged near the ground, ending in a tuft of pink fur that nearly brushed Molly’s as he drew near. “North?”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Caduceus Clay was seven feet of fun. A week on the road was enough for Molly to admit he’d never met anyone quite like him. He was perceptive to the degree that Fjord truly believed him to be some sort of mind reader, but as naive as a newborn when it came to interpersonal relationships. Despite the nature of their meeting, he didn’t seem to have a deceptive bone in his body.

Wary and a little distant were most of the party, but if Caduceus was a bright flame, Jester and Molly were a pair of moths. Watching Jester and Caduceus carry on in their way was akin to sinking one’s teeth into a warm sugary confection. Molly felt rejuvenated just watching them. There was a purity to Caduceus, an odd and guileless way to him that Molly would not have expected of someone so prone to great bouts of depth and wisdom.

And privately, tucked away in the chest of his mind where he hoarded every precious jewel of vulnerability within him, Molly knew he had found someone who saw the same extraordinary in the ordinary as he did.

“Sisters?” Molly mused, tucking the bulk of his tapestry around his shoulders. Snow had only just begun to fall. It would make the first night’s watch a little prettier, a little less bearable. “What’s that like?”

Beside him, Caduceus kept his voice low for the benefit of their dozing companions. Well, lower. “Never a dull moment. Bullies when you look like you ought to be bullied, pillars of emotional support when you don’t.” He looked over at Molly. “Like you and Beau.”

Molly leaned back against their shared log, watching his foggy breath drift upward in the glow of the campfire. “Maybe. You’re very optimistic to call Beau any flavor of emotional support.”

“I wasn’t talking about Beau.”

“Ah. I’m the sister.” Molly bumped his elbow against Caduceus’. “Am I a good one?”

Caduceus bumped back. “Beau is lucky to have you.”

You could have me, Molly thought, an awkward intrusion given the subject matter. He tucked the tapestry up higher around his ears as the snow began to land and melt on their pointed tips. The cold could be worse - he just didn’t particularly enjoy it.

Caduceus watched him hiss a shuddery breath from between his teeth. “Cold?”

“A bit.” He sniffed. “We didn’t all grow up in these woods.”

“Mm, and you all seem woefully furless.” With a muted grunt, Caduceus hefted his weight over until his left side was pressed against Molly’s right. It's - well, it's always nice to find oneself practically snuggling with an attractive giant, but there was no extra warmth to be felt through the tapestry. To correct this, Molly tugged one side from out between them and tossed it over Caduceus's shoulder. “Oh! Thank you. That's very kind of you.”

“Not a bother,” Molly assured as Caduceus tugged the fabric around himself as best he could. Molly could feel Caduceus’ free arm cross behind his back. That was nice. He might have figured it meant something if Caduceus had given any indication that he wanted to get into Molly's breeches half as badly as Molly.

Mollymauk didn't need to be told that Caduceus was a big pink virgin. Nobody but a virginal woodland cleric could miss the vibes Molly was projecting. He was almost entirely confident that it was for lack of guile, and not disinterest. He _had_ met Molly, after all.

“We’re close to your query. Been a long way from home,” Caduceus murmured, a sudden crack in their silence filled with liquid gold. Molly didn't know if he was talking about himself or if he was talking about Molly, and frankly he couldn't care less, because he was in the middle of experiencing the most peculiar sensation. There was, without a doubt, a foreign warmth coiling down the full length of his tail.

Dash his rapidly dissolving misconceptions. Caduceus was very good at keeping his baser depths buried, but Molly was no fool. There's no way to platonically entwine your tail with another man's tail.

It was warm. Molly was warm. Keg rolled over in her sleep, waking half the camp.

“Yeah,” he agreed, and waited for something to come of it.

When they crossed paths with another firbolg on a mission to save her family, Molly waited for it. When they found the house of red in the forest of grey, Molly waited for it. When Ophelia Mardun tasked them with wiping out a fortress of slavers, Molly waited for it. He was still waiting once the fort was purged of Iron Shepherds and all the cages had been cleared, but to a lesser degree. They hadn’t defeated Lorenzo unscathed, after all; it was a close call, even with three clerics. Molly himself was badly wounded, and one’s priorities tend to realign at the precipice of bleeding out.

He woke once on the ground, half cradled in Caduceus’ arms, his face swimming double in Mollymauk’s vision. He’d been talking, and the soothing cadence had been just as good as words.

He woke a second time in Yasha’s arms. They were on the move, that much was clear, and though Molly knew the worst of his wounds were healed, being jostled was an unpleasant affair.

The third time he woke, Jester smiled down at him in an unfamiliar room. She patted his cheeks and continued her merry diatribe until finally her words began to register in the muddy waters of his brain.

“Jester,” he croaked, patting her hand where it lay over his bare chest. She stopped mid-word and blinked down at him. “Where are we?”

“My home.”

In the doorway across the room, Caduceus balanced a tray of several cups and a pot. Jester popped up to help him as he set the tray on a dresser and began to pour.

“A _chapel_ in a _cemetery_ ,” Jester informed him with waggling eyebrows.

“Graveyard. I’m glad to see you’re awake.”

Mollymauk ran his tongue over the back of his teeth with a grimace. The inside of his mouth tasted like ass. “Glad to be awake. Could I trouble you for some of that?”

Caduceus poured three cups, and Jester primly served one to Mollymauk before jerking it back. The deep red tea came dangerously close to sloshing over the sides. “Oh, this will be dangerous lying down!” She set the cup aside and slowly sat Molly up, raining profuse apologies at his hissing. A deep flare of pain shot through the wound in his gut that deeply did not want to be shifted, but he waved her concern away.

“‘s nothing. A scratch.”

“That is a gouge, Molly.” She sounded deeply disappointed in him. Caduceus patted Jester’s shoulder and gave her a chipped cup ringed in tiny pink roses.

“I’ll tend to Mollymauk. Why don’t you tell the others he’s awake?”

Jester leaned over to stuff a pillow behind Molly and plant a kiss on his cheek, whispering rather loudly in his ear, “The tea is really good, even if it is made from dead people.”

Molly raised both eyebrows at Caduceus as Jester waltzed from the room. Magnanimous Caduceus only smiled and reached for Molly’s cup with one hand. With the other, he took Molly’s, carefully placing the warm porcelain against one of his palms. Molly cradled the warmth with both hands. He lifted it to take a sip, but Caduceus cupped both of his hands over Molly’s.

“It’s still hot.”

Molly licked his lips with a dry tongue and tried not to think about the mess he must look with his hair askew and a piece of jewelry or two caught up in awkward errant strands. His eyeliner had to be smudged far past the edge of artful. “Nice place you’ve got here,” he croaked. Caduceus leaned forward and blew over the surface of the tea. “And, ah. Thank you. I’m pretty sure you saved my life back there.”

“It was a team effort. But you’re welcome.”

There was something off about him. Molly didn’t have the chance to figure it out once his visitors flooded in - Yasha first, then Nott, then the rest. Even Nila’s family had stuck around. Caduceus kept his home open to them all. Molly didn’t manage to find another moment alone with him for several days, until Molly managed to assure even Yasha that he was hale and whole again.

Even then, it was hard to find any sort of privacy in a chapel full to bursting with wanderers. Since Molly was healed, the Nein was fully in the throes of preparing themselves to return to Ophelia and the long trip south. Nila’s family had made noises about sticking around, finding a home here where they could do some good for the forest.

Caduceus had watched it all with a smile. Molly missed his wise words and the comfort of his presence. Molly wasn’t given to indulging in any sense of absence, so when he caught sight of a tall figure in the graveyard the night before they were to depart, he slipped silently outdoors.

The moon was full and high, and around the garden several flowers blossomed with a soft blueish glow. Caduceus was knelt by a tombstone, tenderly scraping flecks of moss into a small satchel. When Molly approached he looked up and smiled. “Thought you might like some tea for the trip.”

No time like the present. Molly reached out, curling his fingers around Caduceus’ shoulder. “You’ve been awfully kind to me,” he murmured, drawing his hand up to cup the back of Caduceus’ neck. He indulged in the the long, slow pull of his fingers through Caduceus’ hair. It really was a soft as it looked. “D’you suppose I might beg a little more kindness before the night is done?”

Caduceus saw him through the dark and smiled easily. “What would you have of me, Mollymauk?”

He scraped his thumbnail delicately under the base of Caduceus’ ear. “Quite a lot. More than one night could hold.” He gazed as he often did at the softness of Caduceus’ mouth. “P’raps enough to convince you to come along for the ride.”

Behind the tombstone, Molly tipped Caduceus’ chin up and drew himself down into a kiss. He kept it soft, despite his hunger. Caduceus was still, but not stiff under Molly’s hand. The thoughtful note rumbling through his chest sent fizzly shivers through Molly’s chest. “Was that your first kiss?” he asked, knowing the answer.

Caduceus’ eyes were so dark in the light of the moon. “Thanks,” he said, and Molly huffed a quiet laugh against his mouth.

“You're quite welcome. What do you say we escalate this inside?”

There wasn’t an ounce of shame in him when he led Caduceus in, winking at Jester when she gasped at their joined hands. Fjord and Yasha looked quietly bemused, and Molly ignored Caleb’s silent judgment. “Don’t wait up, kids,” he purred, closely followed by a pleasant, “Goodnight, everyone,” from the big guy himself.

Caduceus had so graciously lent Molly his own bedroom for recuperation, so Molly knew the way. He closed the door behind Caduceus and leaned in to casually, socially pin him against the wood. “Hi.”

Caduceus’ eyelids lowered. Even his lashes were pink. “Mollymauk.”

Molly leaned in to brush his lips against Caduceus’ throat. He palmed at Caduceus’ chest, felt the tremor that fluttered through his heart. Molly had that effect on people. It was good to know he had it on Caduceus. “Hmm?”

He swallowed. Molly could feel it. He could _feel_ the moment Caduceus’ voice went rough and slow. “I could fill a book with what I don’t know about this.”

Leaning back, Molly spared another drag of his nails down the center of Caduceus’ chest before he shrugged out of his coat. “Let’s find out if I’m as good a teacher as I think I am.”

Molly was not in the habit of bedding virgins. He valued experience, and if pressed to confess, he might say he preferred it. He wasn’t a picky man - his tastes gravitated toward beauty and strangeness, and Caduceus had both in spades. It wasn’t his inexperience that drew Molly to him. There was no one thing that coaxed Molly to undress this cleric from the woods and pull him into bed to be undressed.

He kissed him - he held his face and kissed his mouth until his lips parted and Molly could dip his tongue inside, to taste him and know him in this bright new way. Caduceus learned quickly but moved slowly, and he touched Molly without reservation. While Molly lay stretched over his body to hold his jaw and kiss him breathless, Caduceus pet his flank and up his spine, tracing over scars and the raised flesh of his tattoos. “This is nice,” he rumbled when Molly let him up for air. He’d only nibbled on Caduceus’ lower lip once; with a few more, it would be swollen. “Is this nice for you?”

Molly grinned, planting both hands on Caduceus’ chest and pushing himself up. “Let me show you how nice it can be.”

Clerics, as it happened, had very useful magic at their fingertips, and Caduceus was happy to experiment. He had no oils or salves in his room, because he was apparently not only a virgin but a very organized fellow who kept his creams in the washroom. That was a problem for lesser men who didn’t have soothing magic to ease the stretch their fingers at dark and intimate places. Molly laughed, hanging his head and clenching his fists over Caduceus’ chest at the hot-cold pulse in his asshole as Caduceus pressed two of his massive fingers inside.

“I didn’t know this was supposed to be funny,” Caduceus said, sounding delighted at the prospect.

“In my experience, it’s usually the best sex that makes you laugh,” Molly breathed. His eyelashes fluttered closed at the bizarre sensation, tightening around Caduceus’ fingers just to test it. It didn’t hurt; in fact, it was perfectly comfortable. Soothing, if he had to put a label on it. It was the first time he’d ever felt soothed being fingered open by a beautiful man. “Press in a little further and down, if you pl- _yes_.” His toes curled and his body bent to press back against Caduceus’ hand. “Yes, that’s lovely, thank you. Just - again, if you’d be so kind.”

Caduceus’ fingers were unreal. They were gargantuan, dexterous and slow. Molly sluggishly opened his eyes to peer down at the place where his heavy cock nudged at Caduceus’ on his belly. He wanted to bury his face in the thick pink hair that trailed from Caduceus’ navel to his generous prick.

“Can you only work magic through your hands,” he choked, falling face first into Caduceus’ chest when he pressed a curious thumb to the underside of Molly’s balls, “or can I take this now?”

Caduceus twitched when Molly palmed at him. Molly weathered it with an air of smugness.

“S’pose we could find out… yeah, I think that could work… yeah. Let’s try it.”

When Molly finally sank down on Caduceus’ ridiculous cock radiating some sort of magical balm, he could barely hold himself up for laughter. Caduceus looked pleased, if his grip on Molly’s thighs was a little tight. “This must be pretty good.”

“You have no idea,” Molly giggled, bracing himself about halfway down. “This is ludicrous. Absolutely bonkers. Gods, you’re a monster. Someday we’re gonna have to do this without your magic so you can wreck shop. For now, this is - this is perfect.”

When Molly sank down a little further, quietly congratulating himself for taking so much, he was nearly unseated as Caduceus suddenly sat up. The shift in position forced Molly’s legs further apart with a burn in his thighs. Caduceus folded him up in his arms and with a hand on the small of Molly’s back, pressed himself in completely. Molly gripped at him hard enough to leave welts, tucking his face in the crook of Caduceus’ shoulder. “Fuck.”

The noise that came out of Caduceus sent the primal part of Molly’s brain exploding with little bursts of hot and fiery light.

He lifted himself up with what little room Caduceus gave him to move and fucked himself on his cock. Caduceus must have lost concentration on the spell, because little by little, the soothing pulse dulled. Molly could feel everything, and it was _nice._

“Let’s do this again,” he growled, and corrected himself when he realized he’d said it in the harsh rasp of infernal. He would swear he could feel Caduceus in his throat. “And again. Come with us. Come with me.”

Caduceus laughed then, like a temple bell, nuzzling his face into Molly’s neck.

“Do you believe in fate?” he breathed, squeezing Molly’s waist, and he was not an overly slender man, but it was dizzying to realize that Caduceus could probably encircle his waist with both hands touching.

Caduceus was fucking him stupid. Caduceus was petting his hair.

“I really, really think I might.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing a high fantasy comic about a wandering bard! [Check it out from the beginning HERE!](https://bardbouquet.tumblr.com/post/179195348759/a-dwarven-heirloom-a-blade-in-the-dark-and-a)
> 
> “I love the evanescent, fragile sounds and colors, everything that trembles, undulates, quivers, and shimmers, hair and eyes, water, leaves, silk, and the spiritual quality of indefinite forms.” - Albert Samain, 
> 
> My Tumblr: [wardencommando](http://wardencommando.tumblr.com/).  
> Details about fic reque$t$ [here!](http://wardencommando.tumblr.com/post/175675914506)  
> 


End file.
